An Emptiness Deep Inside
by Ginny3
Summary: Post Ep for A Fractured House. Phil decides it's time to confess a few things to Skye.


**An Emptiness Deep Inside**

by Ginny

As usual nothing belongs to me.

Title comes from the Neil Diamond song-I Am I Said

This fits into the same universe as my other stories. This story will make much more sense if you've read my story "Guilt Revisited".

As always, reviews and follow/favorites are appreciated

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><p>"Wait, I know what this is," Skye said suddenly. "It's a map," she declared.<p>

"A map? Map of what?" Phil asked as he reached out to trace a small section of the carving.

"I'm not sure. I need to reach out to some of my Rising Tide contacts. But it reminds me of something I've seen before. I didn't remember it earlier but seeing this in person, it just popped out at me. I'm going to go…"

"Wait," Phil said without turning around. Sky stopped short as she went to grab her ever present tablet. "When you're done, come back. You wanted to talk and I think I'd like that. If that's okay with you," he asked as he finally turned around to face Skye.

"I'd like that very much," Skye said with a genuine smile. She left looking happier than Phil had seen her in a long time.

While Skye was gone Phil went to his room to change. He thought about just throwing on his pajamas as it was almost 10:00 PM but it just seemed too casual for the Director of SHIELD to be running around the compound in plaid flannel. He pulled on a worn, faded pair of jeans and long sleeved t-shirt which at one point had been black but had long since faded to dark gray. A pair of socks and no shoes completed the outfit.

He headed to the kitchen and grabbed two bottles of Coke from the fridge and a bag of chips. He had a feeling the conversation he and Skye were about to have called for some junk food.

Skye still wasn't back when he returned to his office. He put the snacks on the table and walked to the wall. He absently traced a few lines with his finger, causing some paint to flake off and land on his socks. Deep in thought he didn't hear Skye come in.

"So, tell me something," she said as she walked towards him. The sound of her voice caused him to jump a little and Skye reached out to gently touch his shoulder. "Hey, calm down. Sorry, I thought you heard me come in."

"I didn't, guess I was a million miles away," he said as he wiped his finger on his jeans, leaving behind a faint mark on the faded denim. "You had a question?" he asked.

"Uh yeah, so do you keep carving random walls around the compound or what?" she asked with a grin.

Phil chuckled a little and walked to the corner where he pointed to two industrial sized buckets, one of spackle and the other dark brown paint. "May and I could get a job skimming dry wall if this whole SHIELD thing doesn't work out," he said with a genuine laugh.

"So May knows," Skye asked. "I'm not surprised, I mean she's…May, of course she knows," Skye stuttered as she reached for the bottles of soda, handing one to Coulson.

"She's known from the first night," Phil said as he pulled out one of the chairs and turned it around, straddling it. "That was the first night we were here. I went to bed and woke up in the middle of the night and started to carve up the wall in my room. May found me a few hours later. Basically had to wake me. I had no idea what I was doing."

"How often do you do it?" Skye asked as she took a seat across the table from him.

"Every two weeks or so. May gets nervous if I'm on the road for more than 10 days at a time. And no, I've only carved up our walls. No seemingly random markings on any hotel room walls around the world. Same can't be said for random bar napkins though," he laughed.

Skye returned the laugh as she reached for the chips. "Who else knows?"

"Simmons. I told her before she left to go undercover. Not so much for her to figure out what the symbols were, more why I was doing it. Medical term is hypergraphia. Lots of causes, most likely in my case is something chemical."

"Alien stuff injected to you would count as "chemical" I suppose," Skye mused.

"Pretty much what I said," Phil answered as he motioned for Skye to pass the bag of chips. "Anyway, May documents everything. Video and still photos, some of which you have seen. Did my best not to give you any photos which would let you know it was me. What gave me away?"

Skye stood up and walked to his desk. She pushed aside a few binders marked "Classified" to reveal the small section he'd carved in the dark wood of the desk earlier in the day.

"Guess I need some wood stain too," Phil muttered as he put the bottle of Coke on the table and leaned over, resting his chin on his arms which were folded over the back of the chair.

Skye walked back to the table, pulling her chair closer to his. She propped her foot up on the edge of the chair Phil sat in. "When you're doing it, do you know what you're doing?"

"Am I aware of it, yes. Can I keep from doing it, not really. It just sort of flows out, I don't plan what I'm doing, it's not a conscious response."

"Is it always the same? Is the pattern different each time?" Skye asked, getting more curious by the minute.

"It's not exactly the same. There are similarities each time. That's why May documents everything, so we can look for patterns. I will be able to show you more now."

"Does it just end when the wall is filled?"

"More or less. I'm absolutely drained when it's over. I feel empty. May usually shoves me in the direction of my bed and more or less tucks me in for as long as she can. There are times I'm sure she is seconds away from drugging me to get me to rest."

"That explains why you seem to be missing every once in a while. May's pretty protective of you," Skye stated simply as she reached for the chips.

"She is, always has been. Guess there are times when I need someone to look after me," Phil admitted with a small smirk, leaving himself wide open to some probably well-deserved teasing. He turned to look at Skye, waiting for her response.

With an almost imperceptible little grin Skye let the opening pass her by, figuring she'd circle back to that at some point in their conversation. "So the two of you…ever…you know?" Skye asked, suddenly feeling rather bold.

"Nope. We're the best of friends, but I don't like to date anyone who could kick my ass," Phil snorted.

"And she certainly could," Skye teased as she moved her foot to give him a little kick in the hip. Phil jumped a little spilling soda down the front of his shirt. "Sorry," Skye said she reached to grab a box of tissues off his desk.

"It's okay. I've been a little jumpy lately," Phil muttered as he mopped up the soda and pitched the tissues in the general direction of the wastebasket, missing by nearly a foot. He grunted a little as he pushed himself out of the chair to get up and throw them away. He paced around for a minute and to her credit Skye just let him be. She checked her tablet, looking for any information on the carvings. To her disappointment, there weren't any.

Phil stopped his pacing in front of the wall. He felt himself start to shake a little so he wrapped his arms around himself. He was aware of Skye moving towards him but didn't turn around. She tentatively reached out to put her hand on his shoulder, hoping he wouldn't flinch. He didn't. He grabbed her hand a pressed a quick kiss to it.

"Want to get out of here for a few minutes? I need some air," Phil said as he let go of Skye's hand.

"Sure. Let me run and grab a jacket," Skye said.

"I'm sure I have something you can wear. Look in there," he said pointing towards the closet.

Skye grabbed a black hoodie for Phil and a navy fleece for herself. It was big on her but she rolled up the sleeves. Phil slipped the hoodie over his head and smoothed down his hair. He grabbed the pair of sneakers by the door and shoved his feet into them, not bothering with the laces.

They headed out the building without running into anyone else, much to their surprise.

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><p>The night was cool, fall was in the air. Skye zipped the fleece up to her chin and Phil shoved his hands in the front pocket of his sweatshirt. Both were quiet for a few minutes. Phil paced a little, taking a few deeps breaths to try and clear his head a little.<p>

It wasn't really working.

Skye sat down on the low cement wall which ran along the walkway leading from the door. Phil climbed over the wall to grab what looked like a rock.

"Secret hiding place," he explained as he turned over what turned out to be a fake rock, the kind you use to hide an extra house key. He pulled out a cigarette and a lighter.

"Really?" Skye laughed. "So who else knows this little secret?" she asked as she raised an eyebrow at him.

"May and Simmons," he said as he flicked the lighter. "May's known for years and Simmons since the day you were shot. Bummed a cigarette off the hospital security guard and she caught me when she came out to check on me. Half a pack a week, before you ask."

"Any other secrets you care to share?" Skye asked. While her tone was teasing she was rather serious.

"Well, you already know about my "artwork", my secret Twinkie stash and my nicotine habit, what more could there be?" Phil muttered as he looked down at his feet, suddenly finding his untied Nikes rather fascinating.

Skye just raised her eyebrows to let him know she was serious. They were close enough for her to know when he was holding something back, when he needed to talk.

Phil sat down next to her on the wall, deciding what to tell and what to keep to himself.

"Believe it or not, my faith is very important to me. Was raised Catholic. Nana Margaret took me to church every Sunday. I was an altar boy and for a very brief moment considered the priesthood. But then I really discovered girls and that plan went out the window."

"Still practicing?" Skye asked.

"Well, being here and being in the shadows when I leave the compound makes it a little difficult to go to Mass on Sunday. But I go when I can. I pray daily, keep rosary beads by my bed and in general find comfort in my faith, despite all that's happened in my life. Some people may find that odd, given what I've been through."

Skye was quiet for a minute. On one hand his profession of faith surprised her but on the other it fit perfectly with his personality. "Makes sense to me."

"Any before you ask, May and Simmons," he said with a laugh. "Simmons found out about it the same night as she found out about this," he said as he waved the cigarette a little.

"Eventful night, I guess," Skye said with a grin.

"Yeah, one of the worse days of my life," he admitted.

"Definitely the worst of my life," Skye muttered.

"I would imagine. Anyway, I was a mess," Phil admitted. "The rest of the team was in a private waiting room. I just couldn't stay with them. I wandered the halls for a while, eventually curled up on a windowsill in the hallway, praying. That's where Simmons found me. We talked for a while about a few things," Phil said vaguely. He pushed himself away from the wall and started up the walkway. Skye stayed where she was and let him be. She said nothing. It was very clear to her that Phil was about to open up and she didn't want to push him.

He took one last drag on the cigarette and stubbed it out with his toe.

"That night, before we got you off the Bus, Jemma asked me something," Phil said as he settled himself on the other wall, opposite Skye. He wanted a little distance between the two of them, for both of their sake. "She asked me what it was about you, why we seem to have this bond."

"Did you have an answer?" Skye asked as she stretched her legs out in front of her. She certainly had an answer to that question but she was curious to hear his before sharing hers.

"Yeah. It's kind of a long story, you up for it, it's pretty late," Phil pointed out as he glanced at his watch.

"I'm good."

"Well, once upon a time…"

"Wait, a fairy tale?" Skye teased. As her words slipped out she glanced at Phil and realized her teasing had fallen flat. "Sorry," she whispered.

Phil took a deep breath and started again.

"When I was a young agent in the late 80's I was married, briefly. Her name was Abby." He stopped there, letting that much sink in with Skye.

"Okay. Briefly married as in divorced or…." she trailed off, afraid of the answer.

"No, not divorced. She was killed when a car skidded on a wet street and jumped the curb. She was on her way for takeout ice cream, because I was too much of an ass to go with her."

Skye gasped but stayed where she was. She knew Phil well enough to know if she made a move to comfort him one of two things would happen, he'd either fall apart or just stop talking. Either way, she wouldn't hear the rest of the story.

"Abby was pregnant when she died, almost 9 months. When it was clear she was brain dead, the doctors delivered the baby, a little girl we had decided to name Maggie, after my grandmother. She lived for a few days," Phil continued as he reached to clumsily swipe at his eyes. Across from him, Skye did the same for her own tears. To her surprise, Phil got up from where he was and sat next to her.

"What does this have to do with us?" Skye asked, happy he'd shared the story but confused as to what it had to do with their relationship.

Phil took a deep breath as he draped his arm around her and pressed a quick kiss to her temple. "Maggie died three days before you were born."

Skye said nothing, she honestly had no idea what to say. Everything he'd just said had thrown her for a loop, to say the least. She settled for resting her head against his shoulder as her tears continued to fall.

Phil sat next to her, hands shoved in the front pocket of his sweatshirt, tears falling freely. He eventually pulled his sleeve over his hand and used it to wipe his face. "I see in you, what Maggie could have been," he stated simply.

"Makes sense," Skye replied. "And in you, I see the father I never had," she said quietly.

"I know," Phil whispered.

"And now you know some of my deepest secrets."

"Some of them?" Skye teased.

"Most of them," Phil clarified.

"Do you have a picture of Abby?" Skye asked curiously.

"I have pictures of both of them. Come inside and I'll show them to you," he said as he stood up and held his hand out to Skye to pull her to her feet.

"I'd like that. Thank you, for sharing your secrets," Skye whispered as she pulled him into a big hug. Phil returned the hug and they headed back inside.

* * *

><p>"You want some tea?" Skye asked as she unzipped the fleece and tossed it over the nearest chair.<p>

"Sure, meet me in the kitchen. I'll go get the pictures."

Phil returned to his room, grabbed the picture of himself and Abby from his wallet and the pictures of Maggie from the box on the shelf. He was cold and gave up caring what he was wearing so he pulled on his plaid pajamas and his slippers.

"Comfy?" Skye teased as he wandered in the kitchen as the tea kettle whistled.

"Yep," Phil smirked as he picked out a tea bag from the basket on the shelf. Given his recent trouble sleeping, he decided on decaf. He took the mug from Skye, smiling when he realized she'd found his favorite striped mug in the back of the cupboard.

They settled down on the stools at the island. Phil pulled the three pictures out of the chest pocket of his pajama shirt and put them on the island without a word.

Skye wordlessly picked them up and studied them. Phil just sat with his hands wrapped around the mug trying to warm up. "They were beautiful, both of them," Skye whispered as she set them back down. "Where are they, uh," she started and trailed off.

"Buried?" Phil asked. Skye just nodded. "Boston, in my family's plot. Haven't been there in quite a while. I should probably go next time I'm in the area."

"You should make some time to go," Skye urged him.

They drank their tea in relative silence. Skye trying to process all she'd learned that day. Phil just lost in his thoughts, as was the norm lately.

"I feel like my life is both falling apart and coming together. Does that make any sense?" Phil asked.

"Sure it does. SHIELD is starting to come together, slowly," Skye grinned. "And personally you are…"

"Falling apart?" Phil muttered. "You can say it."

"You don't know that you're falling apart, sir."

"Tell that to the wall in my office. And you don't have to call me "sir" as I'm sitting here in my pajamas," Phil snorted. He took a deep breath, leaned over a little and rested his chin on his clasped hands. "I just feel empty. Like I'm going through the motions."

Skye scooted closer to him.

"What are you talking about? You are the Director of SHIELD. You've worked so hard these past 6 months. You've assembled a new team and we're starting to get our act together," Skye teased as she leaned in to his shoulder.

"Slowly," Phil added with a little grin. "I don't know where all of this is leading. I don't know if I'll end up like Garrett or if I'll be able to control things. I don't even understand what the hell I've been carving in the walls. But most of all I don't know what will happen…what will happen…"

"To me?" Skye whispered. Phil nodded. "Well, I don't feel any different. I certainly haven't carved anything alien like. And I don't, you know, feel alien, despite your little theory."

"Sorry I just blurted that out," Phil said quietly. "It was a little premature."

"Yeah, we will be revisiting that conversation at a later date, have no fear," she assured him with another nudge.

"I'm sure we will. There's something else I should tell you. May and I talked a little while ago. We have an…..an agreement."

"About what?" Skye asked, already knowing she wasn't going to like the answer.

"About what will happen when I become a danger to myself, the team, to SHIELD, to mankind."

"If, not when," Skye corrected.

"Semantics Skye," Phil stated simply as he stared straight ahead.

"What's the plan? Cabin in the woods, tent in the desert?"

"Bullet in my head," he answered without emotion.

"No."

"In my head," Phil repeated as he leaned forward, heels of his hands pressed to his eyes. He felt the hot tears start even before he heard Skye's first small sob.

"I can't talk about this," she said suddenly as she propelled herself off the stool, almost knocking it over in the process.

"Wait, Skye," Phil said as he grabbed for her arm but missed as she was too quick.

For a split second Phil considered following her but he truly lacked to energy to run after her. She needed some time alone and he could respect that need, it was one he had frequently too.

Skye nearly ran in to May in the hallway. When May tried to question her she could only mutter "Coulson" and point in the direction of the kitchen. May took off running having no idea what she would find when she got there.

May found him sitting at the island, sobbing. She moved to stand behind him and gently placed her hands on his shoulders. Phil leaned back into her embrace and she saw the pictures on the island. It had been years since Phil had talked to her about Abby and Maggie, even longer since she'd seen the photos.

"Take a deep breath," May whispered as she kissed the top of his head. Phil took a few halting breaths. "Better?" she asked as she felt him settle down a little. She loosened her embrace, eventually letting him go and sitting on the stool next to him. "What happened?"

"I told her a bunch of my secrets. Explained about the carvings, faith, cigarettes, Abby and Maggie.."

"And?" May asked, knowing full well that none of those things would have sent Sky running from the room in tears.

"Our agreement," Phil admitted as he reached out to her. He dropped his head down, looking at their clasped hands in May's lap.

"Oh Phil," May said quietly as she leaned forward and rested her forehead against the top of his head. "Do you want me to go check on her?"

Phil just shook his head. "She needs some time. Check on her in the morning."

"Are you okay?" she asked.

"I don't even know how to answer that. I just feel empty," he said, his utter misery coming through his quiet voice.

"I know," May whispered. "Come on, I'll walk you back to your room," she offered as she slid off the stool. She put the mugs in the sink as Phil pushed the stools under the counter. She picked up the pictures and they headed down the hall.

When they got to his room she pushed in the direction of his bathroom with a suggestion to splash some water on his face, take some Advil and brush his teeth. While he did just that she went to put the pictures back where they belonged. She put the ones of Maggie in the box he kept next to his Captain America paperweight. Then she found his wallet on his nightstand and carefully placed the other picture where it belonged, next to the picture of Nana Margaret.

She was making herself busy pulling the covers back when Phil emerged from the bathroom looking absolutely exhausted. He crawled into bed and let her tuck him in.

"Do you want company for a little while?" she asked as she sat down on the edge of the bed. Phil just nodded. "Then I'm stealing some clothes," she teased as she crossed the room to grab some sweats and a t-shirt out of his dresser. While she changed in the bathroom he said a quick prayer, crossing himself as May came back out. She smiled and sat down on the other side of the bed.

Wordlessly Phil tossed his pillow in her lap and curled up. May rubbed his back and tried to get him to settle down. She wasn't having much luck as he was both exhausted and fidgety, not a good combination. "What can I do for you?" she asked. As expected his reply was nothing more than a shrug of his shoulders. "How about an Ambien?" May suggested after another 20 minutes of restlessness.

"Probably not the worse idea," he relented as he started to push back the covers.

"I'll get it," May offered. She grabbed the pill from the bathroom and a bottle of water from the little fridge in the corner of his room.

"Thanks," Phil muttered as he took a few sips of water and put the bottle down on the nightstand.

May pulled the covers back over him and he settled down facing away from her, back curled against her chest. She held him close, tucking his head under her chin.

As it closed in on midnight Phil finally settled down to the point that the only thing moving was his hand which shook slightly every few minutes, a symptom that had been increasing over the previous week or so. May carefully slid her arm out from under him and settled him on his back. He was snoring softly by the time she grabbed her clothes to head back to her room. She crouched down next to the bed and brushed her fingers through his hair and kissed his forehead. While she wasn't particularly religious she did send up a quick prayer, asking for peace for Phil and guidance for herself.

THE END


End file.
